The Severed City

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Cigarette?’ he said.

  ‘Shella says I shouldn’t. She says it’s bad for the baby.’

  ‘Well, if her royal Highness says so,’ he smiled, and passed her a cup.

  ‘Thanks.’

  He poured another for himself. ‘Any news of Killop?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘It’s early days,’ he said, ‘I’m sure he’ll come.’

  He watched her as she sipped the hot tea.

  ‘But you know, Daffie,’ he went on, ‘if he doesn’t, you’ll always have the family’s full support. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, and I certainly don’t care about the gossip in the king’s court. You’re my daughter, and the child you’re carrying is my grandchild, no matter who the father was.’

  She bit her tongue.

  ‘And,’ he frowned, ‘I’m sure your mother will come around. She just needs some time to get used to the idea.’

  Daphne raised an eyebrow and looked out over the vast sea. The tall masts of ships dotted the horizon, sailing to and from the great harbour wharves down the wall to their left.

  ‘It’s funny,’ she said, ‘each day the Sanang army gets closer, and everything’s going on as normal.’

  ‘Would you prefer panic, dear?’

  She smiled.

  ‘I know what you mean, though, Daffie,’ her father said. ‘I would have expected a little more urgency. But you must remember that I’m not in the king’s favour, and have never been invited to his court, so I’ve no real insight into his Majesty’s thinking.’

  ‘Is that why you stayed up in Holdings City when the king moved down here?’

  He nodded.

  ‘It was made clear to me that I wasn’t going to be on his Majesty’s council, and I certainly wasn’t in the mood to beg. You’re the only reason I rented this townhouse and came down.’

  ‘What’s the old capital like,’ she said, ‘with no king in it?’

  ‘Quiet,’ he said. ‘Angry. A lot of the nobles who stayed are unhappy with what the new king is doing. We formed a city council to run the place, but most meetings degenerate into a bad-tempered recital of complaints against the crown. We meet in the Lower City, the Upper is practically abandoned, the palace shut up, and the citadel almost empty. Except for the prophet of course.’

  ‘He stayed behind?’

  ‘He said he was too old to travel. Too old to make such a long journey. Time for a younger pair of hands to take over. That’s the official story anyway. Rumour is that he has his doubts about the new king.’

  ‘I thought he’d been plotting to have him crowned for years.’

  ‘That’s what I thought too,’ her father said. ‘Maybe the old man changed his mind when he saw the reality.’

  Daphne shrugged. ‘The king doesn’t seem all bad,’ she said. ‘He hasn’t enacted the religious restrictions we feared.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘He hasn’t. Yet. Though he has been enforcing the alcohol ban, at least here in the capital. In Holdings City,’ he smiled, ‘the bars re-opened the day after the king departed.’

  ‘He’s banned Sanang weed as well.’

  ‘Yes,’ her father nodded. ‘He’s even trying to enforce that in the Kellach camp, would you believe. Though not even his Majesty is foolish enough to try to part the savages from their drink.’

  Daphne’s hand went to her bump as her gaze bore through him.

  ‘Sorry, dear,’ he said. ‘I keep forgetting.’

  ‘You know, father,’ she sighed, ‘I had someone come up to me the other day, who told me flat out that I was a liar, that it was impossible for Holdings to breed with Kellach Brigdomin, and that I must be hiding the true identity of the father.’

  ‘Who dared speak to you in that manner?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said.

  He looked away, his face furious. He lit a cigarette, and they sat in silence for a moment.

  ‘I assume you’ve seen this morning’s mail?’ he said.

  ‘I have.’

  ‘Are you ready?’

  She shrugged. ‘I suppose.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll do the family proud,’ he said, ‘and who knows, if his Majesty likes you, you may be invited again. There’s been a Holdfast in the court of the monarch since the Founding…’

  ‘Yes, father,’ she said, ‘I know. But I’ve only been asked to attend because I have knowledge of the Sanang war chief. I’m hardly in the king’s inner circle.’

  ‘We shall see.’

  A servant came out onto the balcony.

  ‘Miss Holdfast,’ she bowed, ‘her Royal Highness Shellakanawara awaits you in her carriage outside.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Daphne nodded.

  ‘Shella’s taking me to the palace,’ she said to her father as the servant went back inside.

  ‘It does help,’ he said, ‘that you’re friends with royalty, even if it’s only with an exiled princess.’

  Daphne got to her feet. ‘I’ll leave Bedig here in the house, father,’ she said. ‘The palace guards tend to get jumpy when a savage Kellach is around.’

  Her father winced.

  ‘I apologise again, dear,’ he said, ‘and I must say, Bedig is a fine fellow. His tuition in our language has been going well, though I do have some concerns about the way he flirts with the staff.’

  ‘I think some of them have a crush on him.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘our home here is fast gaining a reputation. Not only does it house the famous Daphne Holdfast and her exotic Kellach man-servant, but with Rakanese royalty and exiled Rahain politicians popping round for tea, I daresay the neighbours’ curtains have been twitching.’

  ‘If you’re looking for a quiet retirement,’ she said, ‘maybe you should move back to Holdings City.’

  ‘Not at all, my dear,’ he said. ‘I’m loving every minute with you being back. And anyway, it might be a little late to think about travelling to the Realm, what with an army of Sanang approaching.’

  She nodded. ‘I best be off,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t keep Shella waiting. I’ll let you know how it goes.’

  He smiled, though his eyes were far away. ‘Good luck, Daffie.’

  Daphne stepped up into the elegant carriage. Harnessed to the front were a gorgeous pair of mares, white and dappled grey, and for the hundredth time she regretted gifting Jamie to the sergeant who had escorted them to Rainsby.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Shella said as Daphne sat on the plush seats, ‘but I’ve already picked up Professor Forktongue from his house on the way here. Saved time.’

  ‘Hi Laodoc,’ Daphne said.

  ‘Good morning, miss,’ he replied, while frowning at Shella. ‘I’m not actually a professor, my dear princess.’

  ‘I think she knows that Laodoc,’ Daphne said.

  Shella laughed as she signalled the coachman to depart, and the carriage trotted off.

  ‘How I marvel,’ Laodoc said, ‘at the smoothness of these carriages. In Rahain the gaien lurch down roads. One can lose the contents of one’s stomach on a bad day.’

  ‘On the subject of throwing up,’ Shella said. ‘How are you feeling? You’re looking a lot better.’

  Daphne sat back and smiled. ‘Sickness has just about gone, at last. I still get it now and then, but nothing like before.’

  ‘That’s very good to hear, miss,’ Laodoc said.

  ‘I have started to get terrible indigestion,’ Daphne said, ‘and I’ve been burping a lot.’

  Shella laughed. ‘Try not to do it in front of the king,’ she said, ‘though it’d be funny to see the queen’s face.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ she said, ‘but I’m not making any promises.’

  She glanced over at Laodoc, as the old man looked out of the window.

  ‘How’s your treatise going?’ she asked him.

  ‘Quite well, miss,’ he said, turning towards her. ‘I’ve been working on a section about the effects of emancipating the Rahain slaves and peasants, it’s been
most interesting.’

  ‘You’re not really emancipating them though, are you?’ Shella said. ‘You’re not planning on giving them the vote.’

  ‘I do not believe,’ he said, ‘that transplanting the Rakanese strain of extreme democracy into Rahain would be conducive to good government.’

  ‘Why not?’ Shella said.

  ‘What? Having every peasant and ex-slave voting on every decision? It would be utter chaos. Completely unmanageable.’

  ‘I have to agree with him,’ Daphne said.

  ‘But you’re a monarchist,’ Shella said. ‘What do you know about freedom? You’re all subjects of the Holdings crown, rather than citizens of a nation. Your freedom amounts to how liberal or conservative your king or queen happens to be. You whole life is dictated by the whims of one person, whom you don’t even get to choose.’

  ‘So speaks a princess,’ Daphne smiled.

  ‘Not one through choice, believe me,’ Shella said. ‘Although, I am getting used to some of the perks.’

  ‘Mansion, servants, carriages,’ Daphne said.

  ‘There’s a whole ton of boring shit as well, though,’ Shella said. ‘A lot of waiting around, and meeting stupid people. And, having to attend meetings at the embassy, where they all hate my guts, though none of them dare say it to my face.’

  ‘Still not won over the ambassador with your charms?’ Daphne asked.

  ‘He hates me the most,’ she said. ‘Little asswipe.’

  ‘Anyway, miss,’ Laodoc said, ‘there was something her Highness and I wished to discuss with you, before we arrive at the palace.’

  Shella nodded. ‘Within the last few days,’ she said, ‘both Lord Scaly and myself have received visits from Holdings agents.’

  ‘From the church?’ she said.

  Laodoc and Shella shared a look.

  ‘Yes, miss,’ the old Rahain said. ‘Now, I’ve been interviewed several times since arriving, by military officials, representatives of the crown, and so on, but this visit was different.’

  ‘What did they want?’

  ‘Looks like they’re trying to set up a register of all foreign mages,’ Shella said.

  Daphne narrowed her eyes. ‘Then why were they visiting you, Laodoc?’

  The old man flushed. ‘I may have neglected to tell you this,’ he said, ‘but I do have a very small amount of powers. To be honest, thirds can go by and I forget I have them, and I haven’t used them in years. Decades, maybe.’

  ‘What can you do?’ Daphne asked.

  ‘It’s embarrassing really,’ he went on. ‘Move a few grains of sand. A very unimpressive party trick.’

  ‘Then how did the church find out?’

  ‘That, miss,’ he said, ‘is what worries me a little. I’ve told no one here that I possess these meagre powers, after all, they’re of no use to anyone, but the church agent seemed to know about my range of abilities precisely.’

  Daphne considered.

  ‘I wonder if the creator has a way to tell?’

  ‘Oh, miss,’ Laodoc sighed. ‘With no disrespect intended, I cannot bring myself to believe in the Holdings religion. I know how dearly the people here worship their creator, but I would need to see some evidence before I’m convinced.’

  ‘You’re way too polite, old lizardman,’ Shella said. ‘The Holdings religion is the biggest pile of crap I’ve ever heard. How convenient, for your prophets to be the only ones in the world who can magically hear the voice of god. They can make up anything they like, without ever being disproved or contradicted. Dress this way, don’t have sex with them, don’t do this, don’t do that…’

  Daphne frowned. She had confided in both of them about the time the creator had spoken to her in the depths of the Sanang forest, but knew they believed she had hallucinated it.

  ‘Life would be a lot simpler if you were right,’ she muttered, ‘but I know there’s a creator.’

  ‘Sorry, miss,’ Laodoc said. ‘We didn’t mean to offend.’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Shella said.

  Daphne gazed out of the window, watching the wide streets of the elegant new town go by.

  ‘I got a visit too,’ she said.

  ‘You did?’

  ‘It’s not just foreign mages they want to speak to,’ Daphne said, ‘it’s all of them.’

  ‘What did they say?’ Shella asked.

  Daphne pursed her lips.

  ‘They wanted me to know that the church is aware I have more powers than I showed at my examination, when I was a teenager. They asked me how I’d discovered I had more abilities, and how I’d seemed to learn them so well, despite having received no instruction from the church.’ She looked at Shella. ‘They even asked if Rijon had secretly taught me.’

  ‘And did he?’ Shella asked.

  ‘Of course not,’ Daphne said. ‘As if I’d take lessons from that awful man. He wouldn’t have helped me anyway.’

  ‘I know he’s in the city,’ Shella frowned, ‘but he’s not been to see me. I’ve left him messages at the church offices, but he’s never around when I visit. I don’t understand, I thought he was my friend.’

  Daphne said nothing.

  ‘So how did you learn?’ Laodoc asked.

  ‘Desperation, trial and error, and a tonne of keenweed.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ Laodoc smiled, ‘I remember.’

  ‘So they want to employ you again?’ Shella asked.

  ‘They said they were interested,’ Daphne said, ‘but that they would leave me alone to have the baby before they would approach me again.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘They were polite,’ Daphne said, ‘so I was too. I didn’t accept or decline. Just said I would speak to them again after the baby arrives.’

  ‘I told them to piss off,’ Shella said, ‘and that my powers were none of their damn business. They seemed to half expect it, wrote some things down in their book, and left.’

  ‘There’s that Shella charm again,’ Daphne said.

  ‘I’m not here to make friends,’ she said. ‘I’m here to warn the king about the Rahain.’

  ‘I think the threat from my homeland has slipped down the king’s priorities,’ Laodoc said. ‘The small matter of an approaching army of vengeful Sanang warriors may have refocused his attention.’

  ‘I seriously thought,’ Shella said, ‘that when I gave my evidence to the royal court, describing everything that happened at Akhanawarah, that the king would, I don’t know, do something.’

  ‘Didn’t his Majesty send out a proclamation,’ Laodoc said, ‘condemning the destruction of your city as genocide? He used fairly strong language, if I recall.’

  ‘Just words,’ Shella said. ‘Words won’t bring justice. And now our claim has to wait, until the apes are dealt with.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’ll be as simple as that,’ Daphne said.

  Shella shrugged. ‘I heard the Sanang have no siege weapons, no long-range artillery, no ships, and very little supplies. The walls of this city are far too strong to be assaulted successfully by a mob of kilt-wearing monkeys.’

  Daphne nodded, saying nothing.

  Their carriage stopped in the main courtyard in front of the palace, passing through a set of iron gates leading from the main road. The palace was still under construction, and was robed in scaffolding, and half a dozen spindly cranes were arranged over the half-built towers and domes. Like all of the mansions in the aristocratic quarter, it was being made from the local light-grey granite, streaked with flecks of silver. Already it was the highest building in the city, although the university spires and the cathedral’s pinnacles were rising up to rival it.

  A courtier and an escort of guards were waiting for them as they stepped down from the carriage.

  ‘Your Royal Highness,’ they bowed at Shella.

  The courtier turned to Daphne and Laodoc.

  ‘Welcome my Lord Laodoc, and Miss Holdfast,’ he said, bowing again, though not as low as he had for Shella. ‘If you would kindl
y follow me.’

  ‘Miss,’ he said to Daphne as they walked, knowing this was her first visit, ‘his Majesty’s private audience chamber has not yet been finished. Until it is ready, his majesty is meeting supplicants and petitioners in a smaller reception hall on the ground floor, away from the noise and dust of the construction work.’

  The courtier raised his hand and they stopped to allow a troop of household cavalry to pass before them, their horses decked out in full ceremonial gear. Their officer, a tall woman of noble bearing, was leading them, and as she passed she gave Daphne the tiniest of nods.

  Daphne watched them as they began to run through their practice drills. She picked out a few mares that she recognised from their chestnut colouring as having come from Hold Fast, and her heart swelled.

  ‘Miss?’ the courtier said. ‘His Majesty is waiting.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, as they started walking again. ‘Apologies.’

  They crossed to the large, and mostly completed, northern wing of the palace, and entered through an enormous door, passing a dozen troopers in full armour.

  The courtier led the way through the long corridors, their boots clacking on the marble floor, and to a set of double doors.

  As they approached, two guards pulled the doors open, revealing a large hall.

  Daphne followed the courtier inside. The walls were draped in rich tapestries, lit by the continuous row of clerestory windows that lined the walls under the barrel-vaulted ceiling. At the end of the hall sat the king, upon a throne, elevated several feet above the floor on a dais. Behind him on the wall was the green, gold and silver standard of the Realm.

  The courtier halted when they were twenty paces from the throne. The king gazed down at them.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ the courtier called out, ‘may I present her Royal Highness Princess Shellakanawara, and the honourable Councillor Laodoc of the Rahain Republic.’

  Shella and Laodoc each took a step forward, bowed, then moved to the side.

  The king nodded.

  ‘And may I introduce,’ the courtier went on, ‘Miss Daphne Holdfast, here in answer to your royal summons.’

  King Guilliam watched as she walked forwards and bowed.

  ‘Miss Daphne,’ he said, ‘how good to see you at last.’